Severed Connections

By Colleen Crawford

It used to be that any time you walked out of your door, all 'connections' were severed. You ran your errands, had lunch with a friend or took a vacation and turned off everything except what (or who) was right in front of you. "Thank you", cell phones (I write sarcastically). You stole that freedom from us!

Okay. Cell phones became the norm. For almost everyone (thanks, Mom for holding out on this one; you are my idol). Then came texting. One would think that a text is akin to an email. You should not feel obligated to read it until you are alone and have the time. NO! That doesn't happen. Text messages take much too high of a priority in many cases (mine included and even my sister confessed that she feels much the same). Texting has become the new 'let me butt into the line of your life and become your number one priority'. Texts, you are so rude. I abhor you. Yet I love you. Thank you for letting me receive those urgent messages when I need them (I am not being sarcastic here).

Add a phone data plan to that? And you have 'me' (even though all I have is a WiFi connection). Far, far, far too connected. Outside in the back yard? I can read my emails. Driving past an open WiFi connection? My phone will pick it up and beep at me, to tell me I have an unread message. Sitting on the couch and spending 'quality time' winding down with my Daycare Crew before nap time? I can often be found lurking my Facebook page in lieu of watching the Berenstain Bears for the twenty eighth time. And the list goes on.

"TURN IT OFF, GIRL" shouted my internet connection to me. Time and time again this past week (our internet, telephone and cable TV connection was severed for a day and a half; followed by an hour and a half power outage once we were reconnected with the outside world). But what happened the moment we were hooked back to all of our services? I was at the computer or on my phone checking to see what I had missed while I was away.

I am officially shutting all of my windows and walking out of this door. If I am very smart (I am not), I will not start opening them the minute I walk back in.

I need to change this habit. But I am hooked. I am so beyond hooked. I am addicted.

There is a part of me that enjoyed our period of Forced Silence. I think that I should incorporate this into my day. An hour at a time. Then work up to a day. And beyond. Sometimes? I like to listen to my own thoughts and the thoughts of those around me.

Just for today. I will turn it all off. At least until I finish my work day...